


The Kilt

by Pokypup49



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Hot, Kilts, NSFW, PWP, Riza likes what she sees, Rough Sex, Royai - Freeform, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 00:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20751371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokypup49/pseuds/Pokypup49
Summary: Roy comes home in a kilt. Riza likes it.





	The Kilt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Incognito4713](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incognito4713/gifts).

> I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist
> 
> This is off a little clip from Incognito4713. Decided this was needed afterward.  
Disclaimer: I'm not sure if Heymans is Irish or not.
> 
> Thank you for the quick read over, Fullmetalscully!

He kicked open the door, holding his waist and his chest out. A stupid and drunk grin was plastered from one ear to the next as he called out to his wife. “Ho! Wife! Behold your husband!” His deep voice bellowed, causing Riza to jump from her spot on the couch. He strutted in, slamming the door theatrically behind him. He was drunk, with rosy cheeks and mischievous eyes. But the evidence was clearer in his attire. It was certainly not what he left home in. A dark blue plaid fabric flowed over his shoulder, circling his waist into a pleated kilt. Socks rode his calves and the black dress shoes he did leave with were on his feet. Looking him up and down, that was the only thing he was wearing from before! His bold chest and thick arms protruded from the scarf. 

“Where did you’re shirt go,” she asked in shock of his loud entry. 

“Behind me,” he continued in a deeper voice than his own. “Where my old self lies!”

She frowned, standing up from her seat. “Your old self has a very expensive shirt,” she scolded. “Where did…” Riza waved her finger at his body, “ _ this _ come from?”

“We got them for Breda’s bachelor party,” he grinned again. 

“Heymans is Irish.” 

“Today, he was Scottish!” 

Riza’s hand hit her face. 

“Jean’s little white legs are worth laughing about,” he grinned, leaning towards her with his hands on his hips. “I am worth gawking over!” 

She rolled her eyes. Honestly, she'd  _ never _ admit it, Riza was sorely disappointed not to see the clan dressed up in kilts. For some reason, she was most amused with the idea of Kain in a kilt particularly. Her daydream of the group of men singing with mugs of beer, a valid and certain thought, was cut short when she heard Roy laugh and squat down. Hayate tilted his head at his owner's husband and barked. "Even he thinks you are being ridiculous!"

"He wants one too," Roy quickly argued. "Don't you, Boy?" 

Hayate snorted at him and wandered away. This only resulted in Riza bursting into laughter and Roy frowning. 

"Well," Roy chuckled. "He isn't the one I came to impress." 

"Oh," she raised an eyebrow. Under the long locks of black hair which hovered over his black eyes, she saw a twinkle of mischief. "A man in a kilt is supposed to turn me on?" She was actually attempting to cool herself down. He was mighty handsome wearing plaid and a kilt with no shirt 

"I learned a new dance too," he bragged. He hopped, bringing one foot to his knee, then the opposite leg, forming a "4" with his legs. He hopped up and down, only doing this, which was honestly a surprise with the amount of alcohol she smelled on him. "I told you I'd impress you," he snickered. 

"You did," she nodded, covering a laugh that sneaked out of her chest. "You know what would also impress me?" Riza whispered as she approached him, drizzling her finger down his chest as if she was wiping frosting off him to eat. Because surely she was going to eat him. His grin grew again, his canines showing as he realized her insinuation. "I hear you're not supposed to wear underwear with these," she breathed against him, tugging at the waistband. 

Roy shook his head quickly, his hair shaking as well. "Left those with the shirt," he growled playfully. "Free hanging here, lassie." 

"Remember when you and I did it against the wall last week?" 

He nodded quickly. 

"And you raised my skirt?" 

He continued to nod. 

Riza tugged at his waistband again. 

Roy's hands were on her faster than it took her to draw her gun at the range. He spun her around, dominating her lips with his own. His groan was deep, almost animalistic, as his hips pressed her against the wall with enough force to shake the hanging picture. Her lungs left out and she gasped for air. His mouth denied it. Too bad she couldn't see his erection in a kilt, but she sure as hell felt it. He was a rock, digging into her thigh hard enough to bruise. Their noses pressed angrily against each other as his hand slid from her hip and down her thigh. “These sweat pants need to go,” he muttered as his lips parted from hers. His mouth slid down her jaw, kissing its way to her neck as Riza gasped and tilted her head back allowing him open access to her neck. She couldn’t agree more with him. The pants needed to go. 

Riza’s hands pressed firmly against his chest, pushing him off her. She turned only to have him reach out and slap her ass, hard. “You’re in that kind of mood, huh?” She slipped the pants down to reveal his favorite black satin undies. She could have sworn to see him drool. Swaying her hips side to side, she lowered the pants to her ankles. 

He growled louder and Riza turned to see a dark lust in his eyes. She knew what he wanted and it only made her whine for his divine attention. She turned to lean over the back of the couch, moaning as she waved her ass at him. “What are you waiting for?”   
Roy dashed to her, his hands gripping her hips tightly, roughly pressing his erection against her. His finger slid past the underwear to feel her dripping for him, feeling the satin hold in the mess that was hers. A loud drunken moan about drowned hers. She felt his fingers slip in. She tightened her abs, tightening her slick walls around his two fingers. “Fuck,” he groaned. There was no waiting. She felt him move his kilt up so that he could enter her, it falling on her ass. “Not fair,” he instantly complained. “I can’t watch now.” His hands pulled the underwear aside and he thrust roughly into her, making her scream out pleasurably. 

“Yes,” she cried out. “Yes!”

He pulled back, feeling her tighten around him, before slamming back into her, and Riza felt the couch move forward under her. “Slap my ass,” she ordered. 

Roy didn’t hesitate a second as he smacked her ass, leaving a hot red mark on her. She hissed and her walls tightened on him again. Another slap and she tightened again. He didn’t want to slow pace, and continued to press deeper into her, filling her with all of him. The couch moved again. Riza wasn’t far from orgasm. The roughness and the sexy kilt was driving her mad. Now she understood why he liked this when she had a skirt on. Every pound against her seemed rougher, deeper, harder. Roy hit the inside of her foot, stretching her stance and increasing the angle for them. She felt him fall forward, his hands wrapped around her and grasped her breasts in his hands. He squeezed them tightly as he bit the back of her shoulder with a mad growl. 

“Harder, fuck me harder,” she screamed as she felt the couch move for the third time. Riza wasn’t even sure he could. His bite turned to a suck on her neck as the pace quicked and she felt a warm explosion in her. 

“Riz,” he gasped, his hips stopping as she felt his body stiffen and his grasp on her breasts tighten. They’d bruise for sure. However, the squeezing, angle, and the hard length he pierced her with only accelerated her own climax. 

“Roy,” she screamed out, her hips angled upward and her back arched down. “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” she ordered. 

“Yes, Ma’am!” He picked up his acceleration. It didn't’ rush over her. It beat against her stomach and it grew to fill her. Every muscle in her body seized and burned, begging for it to go longer. It did. She climaxed a second time, right after in session and she heard Roy praise her as he continued his abuse of her vaginal walls. Her legs threatened to collapse and her lungs begged for air. “I can’t,” he breathed roughly. “I got to… shit…” 

She felt him pull out, the mess they made seeping out of her in a hot pool against her panties and dripping down her thighs. Riza leaned against the couch as if it was her crutch, which it was. She heard him fall to the ground and Riza couldn’t help but laugh at it. 

“I’m wearing this more often,” he determined. 

“We’re never going to get anything done….” 

“We’re going to have to glue the couch down.” He laughed. 

**Author's Note:**

> I now think kilts are a bit sexy and Roy wears one well.


End file.
